Clothes Line

Waiting in line, anticipating your turn.

It can be the take-a-number line at the DMV, or the youngest child waiting for her first high school dance.  There’s tiptoe looking ahead, wondering what’s just beyond the door, or in front of the other bobbing backs of heads.

At the same time, once your time is up, once it is your turn, then you know.  You are privy to the secret.  It is no longer a mystery whether or not they let you wear your headband in your license picture, or how many slow dances they actually play at Homecoming.

You’re in, the wait is over, and life is different.

So much anticipation, maybe even a little pushing and shoving along the way.  I’m thinking today that it might be a good idea to experience the line, really be there and sit in it before it’s gone.

I know there will be other lines to wait in, but I’ve rushed through a lot of them in my life.  Huffed and puffed only to go bounding through the door, sure that what was at the front of the line was best.  Missing what might have been gained, learned, in the waiting.

Pushing for the front is good, it drives us, but most of our time is spent in the actual line.

Once your number is called, once it’s your turn, it’s over in a blink. Kind of like Thanksgiving, all that cooking and table setting and then it’s your turn and then…dishes.

If you don’t take a minute to laugh with the ones you love, dance with the turkey, taste the gravy for salt, catch a peek at the parade and then the dog show, there’s really no point to the whole business.  Thanksgiving is the ultimate line, the magic is in the lead up.

Lines don’t need to be a pain, or an inconvenience.  The bulk of life is the line, so it’s probably best to bring a cup of tea, a good book, and slow down.  There’s no need to hem and haw, squirm about, or complain that I will “just never get through this line.”

I will.  We’ll all get there soon enough.

My thoughts from the laundry room.  Reaching REM.

acceptance learning life patience Routine thoughts

13 Comments Leave a comment

  1. We just had Thanksgiving here in Canada, so it’s perfect timing for me to read this blog. I think your blog is my favorite! I can relate so much to what you say and how you feel. And Thanksgiving…so much cooking and running around and timing everything just right and by the time it’s all done, I’m always too tired to eat much. LOL!

  2. Earphones attached to my telephone that holds my audible books gets me through any wait. It is a good idea, however, to leave one ear unplugged as I have missed my turn many times. Most embarrassing when you decide it has been way too long and inquire as to why you haven’t been called to find that your name was called 2 hours ago.😧

  3. So true. I rush through everything without really living in the moment, and miss out on all the amazing memories I could’ve made. I’m definitely going to try to slow down, however I find that slowing down is the hard part.

  4. Somehow the universe has decided that whatever line I’m in is going to be the one that gets held up. No joke. Once I realized this, waiting in line became my opportunity to practice Zen. (Does one “practice” Zen? I don’t know.) Now, when the card is declined or the flour bag breaks out the customer has a million questions, I can just laugh and accept things as they are, and that makes life rich.

  5. I was always the impatient person standing on/in line, peering around bodies, over people’s heads, trying to see what was the hold-up. A few years ago I read something about using the time to breathe and re-focus, so I try doing that instead. It helps tremendously as does watching and listening for interesting conversations. The writer in me never passes up an opportunity to eavesdrop on others.

  6. I like this! So many people my age are always just rushing around trying to get as many experiences as they can, but they don’t appreciate the experience of the slow days and the anticipation of waiting for something.

  7. My granddaughter does ballet. It is a lot of work. My wife and I love watching her on the stage but there is always a lump in the throat. A mistake is devastating for the fragile ego.

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: